


Sunday

by iwatsukki



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Character Study, Chef Nanase Haruka, Cliche as Hell, Firefighter Tachibana Makoto, Haruka-Centric, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, can you tell i love ratatouille, im dumb, implied sourin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 22:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21025667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwatsukki/pseuds/iwatsukki
Summary: Saturdays, while the best day of the week for many, were debatably the worst--the loneliest--days of Haruka’s week. He wakes up late in the mornings, groggy and exhausted after a Friday dinner shift at the restaurant, wanting nothing more than to hide in the comfort of his bed all day.





	Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in one sitting and barely proofread so im sorry if there are mistakes, but please enjoy!

Saturdays, while the best day of the week for many, were debatably the worst--the loneliest--days of Haruka’s week. He wakes up late in the mornings, groggy and exhausted after a Friday dinner shift at the restaurant, wanting nothing more than to hide in the comfort of his bed all day. Unfortunately, the love of his life is almost always gone for work when Haruka wakes up, almost immediately souring his mood. In an ideal world, Haruka would wake up flush against a broad, warm chest every morning and feel the softness of that skin, the roughness of those scars underneath his fingertips. On this particular Saturday, Haruka is extra grumpy, not because he has another dinner shift tonight, but because there isn’t a pot of coffee waiting for him in the kitchen. The coffee maker dons an apologetic note (in a rush this morning, sorry!), and Haruka opts for a mug of green tea instead, blistering hot compared to the cool fall air blowing in through the window. As the silver ring on his left hand catches the light, a small voice in the back of Haruka’s mind reminds Haruka of how much his husband spoils him. 

The rest of the morning and early afternoon pass quickly, which Haruka is grateful for--every hour passed is an hour closer to strong arms finally enveloping him and shaggy brown hair tickling his nose. 

\---

_When they first meet, Haruka is a few months out of culinary school, trying to adjust to the fast paced, cutthroat lifestyle of a line cook at a gourmet restaurant. He’s grateful for the job and knows how lucky he is to have landed it, but it’s so tiring that when Saturday--Haruka’s day off--rolls around, all he wants to do is sit in the bath. So when Rin nearly bangs down his door and drags him to a house party, Haruka is ready to snap at anyone who so much as looks at him. He stands in a corner of the room, head pounding from the loud music, nursing a cheap cocktail which Haruka is convinced has to be poison. Please come with me Haru, please, Rin had whined, irritating in Haruka’s ear. Sousuke is going to be there. Haruka gives himself a mental pat on the back for doing such and troublesome favor for Rin and coming to the party. He knows how big Rin’s crush is on Yamazaki, another officer on Rin’s police squad. _

_Haruka drags himself over to the makeshift bar. As disgusting as it tastes, more alcohol is the only way for this nonsense to be bearable. While he’s mixing another drink, a large figure stumbles into him, splashing watery, third-rate beer onto Haruka’s shirt. Irritation flares up inside of him and Haruka is ready to childishly lash out at the person who dared to spill on him. He turns, ready to glare at the perpetrator--that is until he looks at the green eyes in front of him. The man looks frantically apologetic and Haruka feels his anger dissipate into nothing. _

_“Oh, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” the green-eyed man slurs, still unable to get his footing. He bends over, tries to steady himself on the bar, and takes a deep breath. Maybe he expected Haruka to say something back, or at least walk away, so he looks surprised when he looks up and sees Haruka still standing there._

_Trampling down an unfamiliar mixture of endearment and attraction, Haruka averts his gaze for a moment and finds that the man is still staring at him shell-shocked when Haruka looks at him again. Unwittingly, Haruka finds himself wanting to dive into the depths of those green eyes and never surface. _

_“What’s your name?” Haruka asks before he can stop himself. _

_The man startles and nearly falls backwards, but Haruka grabs the hand that isn’t clutching his drink to stop him from falling. His hand is large, warmer and rougher than Haruka’s own. The man blinks one too many times, clearly unsettled, and parts his lips. “Makoto.” _

_“Makoto,” Haruka repeats. The name is comfortable, sweet rolling off of his lips. “I’m Haru.”_

_A moment of quiet passes between them and Haruka can’t stop a small smile from curling on his face, growing larger when he sees how Makoto blushes at the sight. Haruka doesn’t let go of his hand. _

_Makoto is obviously nervous, maybe even overwhelmed, based on the tension of his muscles and slight tremor in his grip. The noise surrounding them fades out into nothing in Haruka’s mind; he’s too enraptured by the man in front of him. He feels drunker, suddenly. _

_“Do you want to go somewhere quiet? It’s loud in here.” _

_Makoto flushes a deep red, redder than Haruka ever thought possible, and nods. Haruka links their fingers and pulls him towards the door. _

\---

Haruka is loyal, that he knows for sure. Sometimes he’s probably too loyal, to the point of stubbornness--at least according to Makoto. As such, he never moved out of his first apartment within walking distance from the restaurant. It’s modest, nothing special, but it has a large tub in the bathroom and Haruka loves it. Especially now, Haruka thinks as their adopted cat rubs against his legs while he’s buttoning up his chef’s coat. It's later in the afternoon and the sun is starting to set. The dinner rush will be starting soon, and Haruka prays that the prep chefs have everything ready before he gets to the kitchen. Tonight’s special is grilled mackerel--Haruka’s favorite. He slips on his shoes, replaces the cat’s food and water, and switches the hallway light on for Makoto before he leaves for the restaurant. 

“Gou, is my mackerel here yet?” he calls to his sous chef as he enters the kitchen. It's been awhile since Haruka has has done work normally delegated to more junior chefs, but mackerel night is sacred and Haruka needs to make sure it's done right. 

“In the walk-in, fresh-caught this morning!” Gou yells back, before she goes back to tasting a smorgasbord of soups and sauces on the stovetop, much to the discontent of Isuzu, the saucier who insists that everything is already perfect. Gou swats away Isuzu’s hand as she tries to snatch away the tasting spoon, and Haruka smiles in appreciation of Gou’s pursuit of perfection. 

Haruka pulls the case of fresh mackerel from the refrigerator, sets it on a table, and gets to work. 

\---

_Haruka leaves Makoto at the house party with a clumsy kiss on the cheek and his phone number, and heads into the next week of work with a barely concealed smile._

_Rin’s younger sister Gou started at the restaurant as a line chef at nearly the same time as Haruka, and they developed a mutual respect while frantically slicing vegetables and hauling in produce shipments at the direction of Mikoshiba, the restaurant’s loud, overbearing chef de cuisine. Haruka figures that Rin told Gou all about the party, and all about how ice cold Haru gave his number to a handsome stranger. He braces for Gou’s barrage of questions when he enters the kitchen for his next shift but his mood plummets when he sees Mikoshiba stomping around and cussing up a storm. Haruka goes straight to Gou and gives her questioning look that speaks for him._

_Gou tenses up when she hears footsteps behind her, but her shoulders relax when she sees its just Haruka. “The poissonnier quit.” _

_“Nanase!” Haruka hears Mikoshiba’s booming voice from across the kitchen before he can respond. “Take care of this salmon, will you?” _

_Haruka scrambles to obey, but doesn’t mind fulfilling Mikoshiba’s request. Working with seafood was his favorite part of culinary school and he hasn’t had a chance to work much with it since graduating. He butchers the salmon quickly and beautifully, his filets clean and ready to be turned into something delicious. Haruka wipes a bit of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and Mikoshiba comes by, examining the filets. He looks pleased. _

_Mikoshiba ends up entrusting Haruka with cooking the salmon and preparing a sauce, which he handles masterfully. Haruka feels pressure settling heavy on his shoulders as he watches for the telltale signs of a perfectly cooked fish, but he reminds himself that the salmon is just a standard menu item--not a daily special or anything. Halfway through the night the head server, Aiichiro, stumbles in through the kitchen door shouting about a critic who had been seated and was ordering the chef’s choice. The whole kitchen tenses and Haruka and Gou exchange a worried glance._

_“Serve him the salmon,” Mikoshiba instructs, sounding far too calm considering the situation. Haruka figures a chef de cuisine at a gourmet restaurant needed to stay composed in this situation, but then it hits him what Mikoshiba had actually said. Dread settles in his gut when he sees Aiichiro rush out to the dining room with the dish in hand. It feels like an eternity before Aiichiro comes back into the kitchen, and Haruka knows he’ll be in a world of hell later when Aiichiro stands on his tiptoes to whisper something in Mikoshiba’s ear, eyeing Haruka from across the room. _

_Haruka drags his feet as he cleans up his station and gets ready for closing. It had been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to go home and climb into bed, but he knows he needs to deal with the consequences of the evening. _

_“Nanase!” Mikoshiba barks, “my office, please.” _

_Haruka follows him in and shuts the door, sinking into a chair facing the head chef’s intimidating desk. He looks at the countless accolades and plaques lining the wall behind the desk and his eyes travel to the name plate on the desk--Mikoshiba Seijuro, Chef de Cuisine. That will never be me, Haruka thinks. Mikoshiba pours himself a glass of pinot noir and clears his throat._

_“I took a real risk, Nanase, putting you in charge of the salmon. You’re a line cook, fresh out of school, and I made you responsible for one of our most popular dishes. However, it seemed like you had done a fine job, even though I didn’t get a chance to taste it. For some self-destructive, impulsive reason unbeknownst to me, I decided to serve it to one of the city’s most influential critics.” Mikoshiba rubs his temples, but he gives Haruka a small smile. “The risk paid off.”_

_Haruka’s heart stops. He doesn’t dare speak. _

_“The critic wanted to give his compliments to the chef, and I had to go out there to thank him even though that dish truly wasn’t even my work. I couldn’t believe it when Aiichiro told me.” Mikoshiba laughs, self-deprecatingly. “My name is on the menu as the chef de cuisine and the critic probably believes that I’m responsible for that dish, but I wasn’t--you were. You’re the one to thank for the positive review that will be in the papers tomorrow.” _

_Haruka lets out a breath that he hadn’t realize he’d been holding, and shifts in his chair. He’s uncomfortable when other acknowledge him, especially if it’s someone like Mikoshiba singing his praises. He fully intends to give Mikoshiba a nod of gratitude and excuse himself for the night, but the chef de cuisine’s voice startles him._

_“Would you like to be our full-time poissonnier?” _

_He leaves his shift that night elated, exhausted, and reeking of the ocean._

_An irritating buzz wakes Haruka the next day. It’s far earlier than he would ever wake up on his own, and annoyance surges through him as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand. A different kind of emotion overcomes him when he sees the text message, and Haruka isn’t sure if he likes the feeling. _

_Hi Haru, it’s Makoto from the party the other day. It was really nice to meet you! :)_

_Haruka stares, completely unsure of what to say. Does he return the sentiment? Does he ask Makoto out? Does he run away and forget this ever happened? Luckily, Makoto decides for him._

_This might be too forward, but I would love to take you out. Are you free sometime this week? _

_Haruka texts back: Saturday is my day off. _

\---

Haruka could filet mackerel perfectly in his sleep, and his work speaks for himself. Other chefs in his position might scoff at him doing something so mundane, but theres nothing else Haruka would rather do. The fishes’ scales gleam in the harsh kitchen light and he works through the case of mackerel quickly, setting aside the filets for seasoning. For Haruka, mackerel is simple--while oily, it compliments many different flavors. The recipe for this special was a no-brainer. He heads to the pantry and grabs spices for a rub which he knows will taste incredible--a sick part of him hopes a critic comes tonight. 

He has a line cook season the mackerel with an encouraging pat on the back, and starts on a sauce for the dish. Tonight’s special all that similar to the salmon that influential critic praised way back then, but Haruka is confident that this dish will go over just as well. He made the prototype dish at home for Makoto, and his husband practically begged Haruka to make it again the next day. Makoto was always excessively complimentary of Haruka’s cooking, but for some reason Haruka wasn’t uncomfortable with the praise. 

\---

_When Saturday morning rolls around, Haruka realizes something that shocks him: he’s excited to get out of bed. Makoto was taking him out tonight and Haruka was looking forward to it more than he’d like to admit. He calls Rin as he gets ready and Rin screeches in his ear, livid that Haruka hadn’t told him about the date earlier. Haruka can hear Gou screeching in the background as well. _

_He meets Makoto at a bustling market which was luckily within walking distance from Haruka’s apartment, and Makoto beams when he sees Haruka approaching. _

_“Hi Haru,” Makoto murmurs, taking one of his hands and kissing his knuckles. Its an intimate move, especially for a first date, but Haruka doesn’t mind. He smiles in response and savors the way Makoto’s cheeks heat up. “I was thinking that we could walk around and maybe try some street food.” _

_Makoto leads him to a picnic table and sits him down. “I’ll go get us something to eat,” he says with a sweet smile on his face. “Is there anything in particular you want?”_

_“It doesn’t matter to me.” Haruka’s standard reply to most things. Makoto disappears into the crowds of people and Haruka feels a pang of loneliness, which is silly considering he and Makoto had just met. Haruka didn’t get close to very many people, Rin and Gou were the very few exceptions. He was shy, prickly with a rough exterior. He liked cooking because he could express himself with his food, no words needed. There were no airs to keep up in the kitchen, instead Haruka could focus on satisfying others in his own way by creating food that tasted wonderful. _

_Makoto returns to the table with two containers of food for the both of them. He sets it down in front of Haruka and Haruka breathes in the smell. It’s wonderful, familiar, and it makes his mouth water. Makoto sits down across the table from him. “It’s grilled mackerel, hopefully that’s okay!” Haruka only smiles and nods, warmth flooding him._

_“Haru, I never actually asked at that party,” Makoto says between bites. “What do you do for a living?” _

_Haruka turns to look up at Makoto’s face, and Haruka can’t help but admire how handsome he is--the cut of his jaw, slope of his nose, shape of his lips. He looks away before Makoto could notice._

_“I’m a poissonnier.”_

_Makoto tilts his head in confusion, and Haruka is taken aback by how cute it is. _

_“I’m a chef in charge of seafood at a restaurant here in the city, although I’d like to be a chef de cuisine someday,” Haruka explains, taking a bite of the food. The taste fills his mouth and he hums in appreciation at how delicious it is. _

_“You’re a chef?” Makoto squawks, looking panicked. “You’re a seafood chef and I took you to this market and am making you eat this fish from off the street! I’m sorry Haru, if I had known you were a chef I would have taken you somewhere nice to eat, not some dingy market-”_

_“Makoto,” Haruka interrupts. “Don’t worry. The food is delicious, I promise.” _

_Makoto doesn’t look convinced, but he drops it. “What about you, Makoto?” _

_“I’m a firefighter,” Makoto says. Haruka doesn’t say anything, but looks at Makoto inquisitively. Makoto understands, continuing on his own. _

_“During university, I felt like I needed to be doing something other than just taking class, so I decided to volunteer at the fire department. I finished my degree, but I didn’t want to quit the fire department, so I decided to work there full time,” Makoto muses. “It’s a challenge, sometimes, but rewarding.” _

_“Is it ever dangerous?” _

_Makoto looks down, downtrodden, and Haruka decides he never wants to see Makoto look sad ever again. “People do get hurt, if I’m being honest. I’ve been lucky so far; nothing too bad has happened to me yet.”_

_Protectiveness surges through Haruka. “It better stay that way.” _

_The man across from him looks up, realization and reverence flashing in his green eyes._

_They walk around the market for a while after finishing their food, talking comfortably, but the bitter night wind nips at Haruka’s red cheeks. He didn’t wear gloves so he shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and shivers, moving closer to Makoto subconsciously. Makoto tenses for a split second and then relaxes. He puts his arm around Haruka’s shoulder with a shy smile on his face. Haruka takes a deep breath in, savoring Makoto’s warmth and the addictive scent of his cologne. _

\---

Once Haruka decides that the sauce is perfect, he collects the seasoned mackerel from the line cook and fires up the grill and a familiar, almost comforting scent fills the kitchen. Haruka’s mother would make him grilled mackerel when he was a kid and he would eat it with this hands, picking up the pieces from his plate and devouring them. His mother would scold him for making a mess on the table, but her words never had any bite behind them. 

The smell also reminds Haruka of the mackerel he ate on his first date with Makoto. It was delicious, he remembers, in retrospect Haruka realizes that Makoto was what made the meal so special. Mackerel is his second favorite smell, Haruka decides. 

He doesn’t let the grill out of his sight, determined to make sure the fish is cooked perfectly. Haruka reads the signs, observes the colors, the sizzle that determines when it’s done cooking, and he thinks about his first favorite smell. Haruka remembers complimenting Makoto on his cologne on their first date. Haruka finds it cute that Makoto wore it every time he saw Haruka after that, and probably thinks that he never noticed.

Haruka takes the fish off the grill and shuts it off. The mackerel is perfect, so perfect that Haruka struggles to not take a bite for himself. He carefully sauces the plates and places the filets on top. The plates are beautiful, Haruka has to admit, so he gives Aiichiro the thumbs up to take them out to waiting customers in the dining room. Haruka has to remember to bring a plate home for Makoto as well. 

\---

_Even though the two of them had been together for a few months and should be over the honeymoon phase, Haruka still feels smitten whenever he spends time with Makoto. Not that he ever lets it show. Haruka quickly realizes that Makoto is the doting type, often overbearing in his need to take care of others. After being on his own for so long, Haruka doesn’t mind being taken care of. _

_However, some of his favorite moments happen when Makoto returns home from the fire department, exhausted and in need of attention. In these moments, Makoto slings his arms around Haruka and rests his cheek against Haruka’s inky-black hair. Haruka thinks he feels small, even though he is everything but. _

_When Makoto knocks on his door one morning after a night shift, Haruka assumes the day would be filled with those soft moments. When he opens the door, he realizes very quickly that this is not case. Makoto’s face is a horrible grimace, and he clutches his forearm in a way that makes Haruka panic. He quickly pulls the taller man into his apartment and sits him on the couch. “Makoto, baby, what happened?” _

_Despite everything, Makoto still manages to blush at the endearment. “We got a call today that didn’t go so well,” Makoto shifts, yelping in pain when he moves to lay down. “A house was coming down and I thought everyone was already outside when we got there, but the mother grabbed me with this awful look on her face and told me that her three-year-old was trapped in the house.” _

_Haruka tries not to let the horror show on his face. He hopes Makoto isn’t going to say what he thinks he’s about to say. _

_“I went in without thinking and part of the burning wall fell on me, it hurt but I got up and grabbed the kid and ran out,” Makoto exhales. Haruka sighs in relief, but another wave of worry courses through him. “I hurt my back, I think, and I got burned on my arm.” He pulls his hand away from his forearm, exposing raw pink skin, throbbing with pain. _

_Haruka’s brain short circuits. “Makoto, no, you need to go to the hospital, I’ll call an ambulance.” he panics, but Makoto stops him. _

_“Haru, it’s okay, the department took me to get checked out before I came here. It’s a superficial burn and will heal on its own.” Haruka deflates, but he still feels sick with anxiety. “The doctor just told me to rest.” _

_Haruka doesn’t let him get up from the couch for at least a few hours, fussing over him and making him soup. Makoto, ever selfless, offers to go back to his own place and give Haruka a break and Haruka nearly snaps at him, but he holds back. Makoto falls asleep on the couch after a while and Haruka calls Mikoshiba, telling him he couldn’t come in for his shift tonight. He grumbles but understands the situation, and even tells Haruka that he could take the next day off too if he needed. _

_Its already dark out when Makoto wakes up and his exhausted voice calls out to Haru, who almost sprints into the room. _

_“Could I stay here?” he says, almost like he’s scared. Haruka takes a breath to respond, but Makoto doesn’t let him. “Its okay if you don’t want me here, its probably annoying to have to take care of me, I can just take a cab home. Wait, oh my god Haru, shouldn’t you be at work? What are you--” _

_He stops when Haruka shushes him, and shakes his head. Makoto visibly relaxes, trying not to wince. “Sleeping here isn’t going to help your back, Makoto, you should sleep on the bed.” _

_Makoto doesn’t have the strength to argue, so Haruka helps him up and leads him into the bedroom. “Do you think a massage would help?”_

_Makoto flushes violently, face and ears turning beet red. Haruka assumes that means yes, so he coaxes Makoto’s shirt off and lays him face down onto his bed. Makoto sighs in relief and its Haruka’s turn to blush. He had never seen Makoto with his shirt off, and the man’s broad shoulders and defined back muscles make Haruka’s heart beat faster. He tries to calm himself down and grabs lotion from the bathroom. _

_Makoto’s muscles are tight with injury and stress and it makes Haruka’s heart hurt. He digs his thumbs in-between Makoto’s shoulder blades, rubbing small circles onto his soft skin. Haruka works his way down his back, silently admiring how beautiful Makoto is. Makoto makes small noises of appreciation, and for some reason it lights a fire in Haruka’s chest. He eventually comes to the small of Makoto’s back--although small probably isn’t the right word to describe it. Makoto is rock solid from top to bottom, but he has two dimples at the base of his spine that do nothing to soothe the heat flowing through Haruka’s veins. _

_He flops onto the bed next to Makoto, not realizing how physically taxing giving a massage was. Makoto rolls onto his side and pulls Haruka close, resting their foreheads together and taking Haruka’s lips into a kiss. They kiss lazily for a while, both of them too tired to take things any further. Makoto eventually pulls away with a sigh. _

_“Let me take care of you sometimes, Makoto,” Haruka whispers, words small in the space between them. Makoto’s eyes are closed, but he opens them slowly and his gaze is filled with something Haruka can’t quite place. _

_“I love you, Haru.” _

_“Haruka,” he replies. “Call me Haruka.” _

_Makoto smiles. “I love you, Haruka.”_

_“I love you too, Makoto.” _

_They fall asleep wrapped up in each other, and Haruka decides he’s not going to let go, not ever. _

_Haruka tells Makoto to be safe before every shift thereafter. _

\---

Haruka is in no way a leader, but he steps up when he’s in the kitchen. He’s the conductor and his subordinates are the musicians. Haruka merely orchestrates the kitchen, but the other chefs are the ones who make their guests wonder how something could taste so delicious. Even with his mackerel dish. He may have cooked it, but Gou, Isuzu, Aiichiro, and the others were the ones who kept the restaurant running while Haruka hyperfixates on his mackerel. Makoto is convinced that he’s obsessed with the fish. 

He continues to fill the stream of special orders and the restaurant is so busy that the evening is flying by. Dinner is winding down before he knows it, but he knows something is wrong when Aiichiro bursts into the kitchen, nearly heaving with anxiety. For some reason, the situation is familiar. 

“Azuma,” Aiichiro says, trying to catch his breath. “Azuma Ryuuji.” 

Haru freezes. Azuma Ryuuji is the one critic in the whole area who had never reviewed his restaurant. He also happened to be one of the most respected, yet strangest food critic on the scene. 

“He’s here, and he wants the special,” Aiichiro says, straight to Haruka. 

Uncharacteristically, Haruka feels nerves creeping up his spine. He had wondered when this was going to happen but it always seemed like a far-off dream. For whatever reason, Haruka believed that this would never happen. Azuma never reviewed this restaurant, even when Mikoshiba was in charge. As if on autopilot, Haruka puts one of the seasoned mackerel filets on the grill. 

\---

_Rin had been Haruka’s best friend for years, long before he became a chef or even decided to attend culinary school. Rin, Gou, and Haruka had basically grown up together, and the bond between them ran deep. Rin entered the police force soon after graduating and quickly climbed the ranks. Haruka knew that it was a taxing job--trying to deal with the evils of the world, bringing criminals to justice, and delivering horrible, devastating news regularly. Despite their closeness, Haruka knew it was bad news when Rin called him. _

_Haruka’s phone rang from across the kitchen and he groaned. It was the middle of a frantic, hair-on-fire dinner rush and there was absolutely no time for distractions. Still, he goes to check his phone and his stomach drops when he sees Rin’s name on the screen. _

_Gingerly, he picks up the phone. “Hello?”_

_“Haru,” Rin sounds out of breath. “Something happened.” _

_Haruka’s heart beats out of his chest and he feels bile rising in his stomach. _

_“Its Makoto, he’s in the hospital.” _

_All Haruka can see is white, and those green eyes that he cherishes so much. He rips off his chef hat and races out of the kitchen, shouting for Gou to cover for him with Mikoshiba. Haruka sprints to the hospital, nearly scaring the hospital receptionist to death when he begs for Makoto’s room number. He moves frenzied through the hospital and stops when he sees Rin and Yamazaki outside of Makoto’s room. _

_“Rin, what the hell happened?” Haruka is hyperventilating. _

_Rin’s hands steady Haruka’s shoulders. “Haru, calm down, Makoto is alive--he’s fine.”_

_Relief gushes through him, but he’s still panicking. _

_“The fire department answered a call and it got messy, so the police got called in as well. Makoto got caught in an explosion, he’s going to be okay but he had to have surgery. He just got out of the operating room and is resting.” _

_Haruka struggles not to crumble to the floor. Rin is clearly affected by his best friend’s peril, especially since he had become affectionate towards Makoto himself. Yamazaki rubs Rin’s back, trying to console him. _

_“He broke his arm, which they corrected in surgery. He was burned pretty significantly, though, so he’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while,” Yamazaki says, frowning. “You can go in and see him, but you might not want to wake him up.” _

_Bracing himself, Haruka enters the room and his heart breaks when he sees Makoto hooked up an IV and heart rate monitor, deep in sleep. His arm is in a sling, and Haruka can see burns on his skin not covered by the hospital gown. Haruka moves towards him, careful not to wake him up. He gently brushes brown hair off Makoto’s forehead and cups his cheek. He stays next to Makoto’s side until he wakes, and Makoto nearly tears up when he sees Haruka. _

_“Haruka,” Makoto nearly whimpers, “I’m so sorry.” The strain on his face is a dead giveaway for the agony he’s feeling and Haruka takes his face in-between his hands. Haruka shakes his head at the apology. He struggles to get words out. _

_“I love you, Makoto. I love you so much, please never scare me like this again,” Haruka’s voice breaks into a sob. _

_“I love you too, Haruka.” Tears fill Haruka’s eyes almost immediately but he doesn’t let them fall. Makoto tries to reach his free hand out to Haruka, but yelps and his hand falls back down to the bed. Haruka can’t imagine the pain he must be in. _

_Dr. Ryuugazaki comes in. “Oh, Tachibana, you’re awake.” _

_“He needs meds,” Haruka doesn’t bother with introductions. Their proximity and the worry radiating off of Haruka’s body is indication enough of what he and Makoto mean to each other. _

_Dr. Ryuugazaki calls in a nurse to administer painkillers, and he explains to Haruka that Makoto would need to stay in the hospital for a few weeks to recover from the burns. “He’s lucky that his injuries weren’t worse,” Ryuugazaki says. “Your husband is a very brave man.” _

_Haruka burns at the thought of Makoto as his husband. He doesn’t bother correcting Dr. Ryuugazaki. _

_Prying himself away from Makoto’s hospital bed and back to work is miserable for Haruka, and he drowns himself in his work to forget that the love of his life has to stay in a clinical, stark white hospital room and try and work through his excruciating pain. As soon as Haru gets off work every day, he walks to the hospital and stays by Makoto’s side until he falls asleep. Dr. Ryuugazaki is sure to remind Haru that Makoto is making steady progress. _

_Its a painful number of weeks with Makoto in the hospital, but Haruka is thrilled when Makoto is discharged. He can move freely now and although his arm is still in a cast, he is more or less back to normal, which is a huge relief to the both of them. Haruka again has the privilege of returning home from a long shift to Makoto. Sometimes Makoto stays up to welcome Haruka home, or sometimes he falls asleep on the couch trying to wait up. Haruka feels a burst of affection either way. _

_They’re in bed one morning after Makoto gets his cast off, sleepy, sated, and still wrapped up in each other. Makoto was insatiable in the morning. Not that Haruka minded. _

_Haruka snuggles closer to Makoto, if that were possible, and runs his hands over Makoto’s strong back. His fingers catch on raised skin--the remnants of Makoto’s burns, of the pain Haruka hopes will never return. _

_“When you were in the hospital, Dr. Ryuugazaki thought that you were my husband,” Haruka sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. _

_“Why haven’t we gotten married yet?” Makoto whispers against Haruka’s skin. _

_“You haven’t asked.” _

_“What if I asked right now?” _

_Haruka pulls away, surprised. “Marry me, Haruka. I’m serious. There’s nothing more I want in this world.” _

_Haruka can’t stop the tears from spilling over this time. _

\---

As much as the whole kitchen crew wanted to peer out the window to the dining room and watch every bite Azuma takes, Haruka has to tell everyone to continue working and finish out the night. Time, while moving at light speed earlier, was ticking by agonizingly slow. There are a few more special orders, which Haruka prepares diligently, and eventually the kitchen goes back to normal. 

That is, until Aiichiro bursts through the doors for the second time that night. “Haruka, he wants to talk to you.” 

The kitchen is dead silent as Haruka ventures out into the dining room. He tries to steel his nerves and approaches Azuma’s table. He’s sipping wine as Haruka walks up, not looking up at the chef. 

“Sir,” Haruka greets. “My server said you would like to speak to me.” 

“Ah, Chef Nanase, please sit.” 

Haruka had heard the the rumors that Azuma was strange, but never had a critic told Haruka to sit with them before. Normally they provide a few comments, a promise of a review the following morning, and a curt nod. Haruka sits down across from Azuma, warily. 

“Chef Nanase, what’s your favorite food?” 

“Grilled mackerel,” Haru answers simply. “It always has, and it always will be.” 

Azuma smiles, sly and unnerving. “Mackerel is my least favorite fish, possibly my least favorite protein. Its too oily, almost overwhelming in its richness. It even looks unappetizing.”

He laughs, and it irritates Haruka. Haruka says nothing in return. 

“This mackerel was different.”

Haruka perks up. 

“The filet was cut beautifully, dark meat cut out to allow the milder flavors of the fish shine. The seasoning had the perfect blend of spices and somehow, the sauce didn’t add to the fattiness of the fish--instead complimenting it wonderfully.

“You know, I can always tell when a chef prepares food with respect. Good chefs respect the integrity of the ingredients and allow them to speak for themselves. They do not torture the ingredients. In my opinion, a reserved chef is a good chef. Are you a reserved person?”

Haruka knows he’s aloof, quiet. Sometimes he wonders why Rin, Gou, even Makoto bother to try and engage with him, when they know how short his replies are. To others, Haruka is reserved to the extent that some may consider rude. He’s lucky to have people in his life that understand that he never means to be. 

“Some may say that I am.” 

Haruka can see the wheels turning in Azuma’s brain, and Haruka feels vulnerable under his gaze. He had no idea what he was wishing for when he thought about a critic coming tonight. 

“While counterintuitive, beneath that reservation is love. Grilled mackerel is your favorite food, and its obvious in the way that you have cooked this dish. I think that’s part of the reason why I liked it so much. There is a reverence in the way the flavors shine. Its clear when there is a deep, simmering love behind one’s actions, whether it is made blantant or not. 

“Perhaps you know what I mean?” 

Haruka’s mind travels for a moment, and he thinks about how Makoto is probably drifting off on the couch right now, anxious for his husband to get home but exhausted from his shift at the fire department. A feeling that Haruka has come to cherish grows in his chest, about to burst. 

“I think I do know what you mean.”

\---

_Haruka is back at work after a blissful honeymoon with Makoto. He’s still sore from their week together and he hopes that his slight limp isn’t noticeable to his coworkers. _

_However when Gou calls him over for help with something, her tunnel vision activates and she raises an eyebrow at him. “Someone had a good week.” Haruka rolls his eyes. _

_Things are different in the restaurant now, compared to when Haruka first started. Although Mikoshiba still scares everyone with his shouting, Haruka feels a quiet confidence guiding his actions. Gou was recently promoted to rotisseur and Mikoshiba’s little sister, Isuzu, started working as the kitchen’s saucier. _

_Its a normal night at the restaurant. No high profile customers, no kitchen disasters, and no frantic calls to produce suppliers. As dinner winds down, the kitchen begins closing and the staff trickles out, leaving Mikoshiba, Gou, and Haruka left at the restaurant. Haruka is taking inventory in the walk-in when Gou pops in, startling him. _

_“Mikoshiba just said he wants to see you in his office,” Gou says, a hint of a smile on her face. _

_Haruka sighs and treks across the kitchen to Mikoshiba’s office and he sits down in front of his desk. It feels a lot like the night when he became poissonnier. Mikoshiba pours two glasses of pinot noir, one for each of them. He picks up his name plate and runs his fingers along the engraved letters. _

_“You probably know already, but I became chef de cuisine of this restaurant after the original owner and head chef decided to move on. It was my dream to own a restaurant, so of course I was thrilled when I was offered the job. I had a vision for what I wanted my restaurant to be, though, and this wasn’t it. I’ve been blessed with success here and have had the privilege to work with some amazing chefs.” _

_Mikoshiba smiles, takes a breath, and continues. _

_“A month or two back, an opportunity arose for me to start my own restaurant. I thought about it for a while. I’m reluctant to part with the restaurant, and with the staff who I’ve seen grow into incredible artists and leaders, but I took the opportunity, and this month will be my last month in this kitchen.” _

_Mikoshiba takes a box out of his desk drawer and hands it to Haruka. He nods, signalling for Haruka to open it. Haruka pulls a name plate out of the cardboard: Nanase Haruka, Chef de Cuisine. Haruka’s jaw drops and his chest threatens to burst. _

_“There’s nobody else who I would leave my restaurant to, Nanase. I trust you’ll turn it into something that you and everyone else will love.”_

_“Thank you so much,” Haruka says reverently, staring at the name plate with wide eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Chef Mikoshiba.” _

_“Call me Seijuro, Nanase. We’re equals now.” _

_Haruka beams. _

_Gou is still in the kitchen when Haruka leaves Seijuro’s office, unable to keep the smile off her face. Haruka can’t hide his either. _

_“Gou!” he calls, “be my sous chef?”_

_Gou squeals and runs to envelope Haruka in a hug. “Do you even have to ask?” _

_Haruka’s mind is racing with ideas, dishes he wants to make, flavors he wants to combine. He decides that the first dish he wants to make as chef de cuisine is grilled mackerel, and he knows exactly who he wants to make it for. His heart sings. _

\---

Haruka’s lonely Saturday unknowingly turned into one of the most exhilarating days of his life, but he’s beyond exhausted and wants nothing more than to collapse into a broad chest and strong arms. Relief hits him like a train when he opens the front door to his apartment. The hall light is on and their cat scurries to greet him at the door. Haruka puts a plate leftover from the restaurant in the refrigerator and imagines how excited his husband will be when he sees it the next day. 

He takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth, and slips on one of Makoto’s big t-shirts. Its too big for him but its soft with years of use and smells like Makoto, so Haruka insists on wearing it. 

Haruka goes to open the bedroom door but first sees a note stuck to it (I wanted to wait up but I was so tired. I’m sorry! Wake me up when you get home). Makoto’s second note of the day. 

He takes a deep breath and twists the door handle gently, careful not to make a sound. The blinds are open and moonlight filters in, creating strips of soft light that extend across the bed. Its Haruka’s favorite place in the world. 

He takes a moment to admire Makoto’s sleeping face before climbing into bed. He looks relaxed, serene like he has never known pain or sadness in his life. Haruka wishes so badly that were true, but now that he’s here he’ll do anything he can to protect him from the world. 

Haruka pulls back the blanket slowly so as to not wake Makoto, but its a vain effort. Makoto’s nose scrunches in the cutest way and he opens his eyes slightly. A slow, sleepy smile stretches across his face and Haruka knows that tonight he’ll dream in shades of green. Makoto extends his arms out and Haruka climbs quickly into them, pulling the blanket back over them before they descend into sleep. 

Sunday is going to be a great day. Haruka is sure of it.


End file.
